Bruised
by RoseTintedLiving
Summary: Blaine loves Kurt; he's the favourite part of his day. He's an escape from his stormy home life, plagued with alcoholism and abuse; however you can't keep two halves of your life separate forever.
1. Chapter 1

**QuickNote**; Hello there! So this started on my tumblr when the idea decided to eat away at me until I stopped my work and started to write it. It's getting away from the fluff and cute I normally opt for writing, moving into something with maybe a little more substance - I just wanted to try my hand at something different [:  
>It's T since I really have no idea where this is going to go... If anything changes rating-wise; I'll let you know!<br>So as always - I hope you enjoy it! This first part is rather short, this is really more of a drabble than it is a story - but the next chapter is longer, I promise! Reviews and loved so so much!  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>; I don't own Glee, Kurt or Blaine - I own nothing at all - just a fangirl!

_- Rosy, of the Living Tinted [:_

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><p>Blaine wrapped his arms tighter around Kurt, taking in everything about his boyfriend. He loved how he could cosy into the lean muscles of his back, snuggle into his hair, forget about his world. It was here, lying with Kurt - who was <em>almost<em> paying no attention to Blaine's spooning while he flicked through a magazine - that he was allowed for feel safe. Kurt moved, to grip Blaine's arms that were pinned to his chest, to remind himself Blaine was still there; and Blaine let himself be happily trapped in the embrace, to remind himself Kurt was still real.

After a little while, the boys fell asleep in this position; still holding onto each other as if they were the only things that were important in each others lives. It was Blaine who greeted consciousness first, and after seeing the last glimpse's of the setting sun outside his boyfriend's window, he reluctantly slipped his arms out of Kurt's grasp. He put on his shoes in silence, left a note next to Kurt telling him he loved him, grabbed his school bag, and left the house.  
>As he headed home he felt colder than ever without Kurt's body heat to keep warm.<p>

Blaine entered his house quietly, shutting the door with a light click behind him, but his Father must have heard his car pull up since no sooner has Blaine taken his shoes off to place next to the door, there was a yell from the living room.

"That must be my _pathetic_ son home! How nice of you to join us!" slurred the lazy voice.

Blaine bowed his head, wondering which approach to take, but his thoughts were interrupted when his Mother rushed in, suddenly hugging Blaine as if she hadn't seen him in days - even if she'd only seen him this morning.

"Hi Mom, sorry I'm late home… I fell asleep at Kurt's." Blaine whispered in a decrescendo - so by the time he got to the end of the sentence he didn't even let himself speak Kurt's beautiful name out loud, just mouthed it so his Mother knew what he was talking about.

"That's fine honey, that's fine," smiled his Mother in return, "I saved you some dinner in case you haven't eaten… I've left it in the microwave, three minutes should be fine."

"Thank Mom, but I'm not too hungry right now, I'll probably come down later and grab it." He lied, but his Mother just nodded at her son knowingly. Blaine lowered his voice even more. "How is he tonight?"

She looked down her feet, sighed, then put on a brave face again and said: "Not too bad tonight. I reckon if you come down at about… half nine that dinner will be perfectly fine to just eat cold."

Blaine smiled, hugged his Mother, and then softly trod upstairs without another word. He didn't mention how the bruise on her face had evolved from a purplish strike to a broad yellowish patch that lay across her cheekbones. Nor did he mention how her eyes were rimmed red, and still puffy.  
>But of course he didn't mention it - he never did.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**QuickNote;** Thanks to the great response to the introduction! I don't think I've ever updated anything so quickly on this site before (even if I feel like a cop-out saying that since I know some people on tumblr have been waiting for this chapter for a while now) - so I hope you enjoy this next part! Reviews are love, and feel free to check any of my other stories [: **Disclaimer;** Don't own glee; don't own anything.

_- Rosy, of the Living Tinted [:_

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><p>Sunlight peered through Blaine's blinds, creating a striking contrast as it lit up a section of the dark messy room. A boy slumped on the unmade double bed, still in his jeans. Next to him lay a plate of half-eaten spaghetti. His hands still clutched the book that he had fallen asleep reading, and the phone that was now waking him up.<p>

Blaine stirred, quickly turning off his phone's alarm, trying not to wake up anyone else in the house. He allowed himself to lie, and listen for a moment, then breathed a sigh of relief as the total silence of the building washed over him. Downstairs, Marvin Anderson slumped in a chair, barely moving - the television remote still in one hand. The stain of cigarette's and bourbon tainted his life, as the stretch leeched out of his pores. His hair was unwashed, his clothes had not been changed now for four days, and lines of spit ran dry down his unshaven chin.

He was dead to the world for the moment, which was his son's favourite way to find him in the morning. Blaine quickly darted in the kitchen to grab himself an energy bar from the cupboard - just in case he would need it later, but already had his heart set on his coffee breakfast with Kurt that would come soon. Left was note as left on the breadboard: "Gone shopping, have taken your car. Will be back before he wakes. Check he's still breathing before you leave. There is some change on the counter for bus. Have a good day at school. x". He was figured as such; his Mother spent most her time caged in the house. She was to leave for work, stay inside all day (although whether she obeyed out of fear or not, Blaine didn't know), and then come straight back home. That was the way it was.

_"Who do you think you are? You think you can just swan out and do what you like? Then come back and live in my house?"_

_"I.. I.. no…" Tears filled her eyes and her voice grew smaller, and she instinctively pulled up her arms to hug herself. "There was traffic, I s-swear, and I knew we needed m-m-milk, and then I ran into E-e-emily a-at the sto-re.." She let herself cry freely, as a voice inside her let her know how stupid she'd been. She _had_ been an hour late, and this _was_ what she deserved._

_"You useless cow. You expect me to even believe that?"_

Blaine snapped himself our of the memory, making himself concentrate on getting changed into his uniform and packing his school bag. These days, he did most of the shopping when he could - picking thing up from school or going out on the weekend if needed. Although he knew he was helping by doing this, he still had to face that sad look in his Mother's eyes and she helped him put away groceries, knowing that all she wished for was for her to be able to do the shopping, as free and without concern, not worried or paranoid. For her just to do those normal things that others could.

For a moment Blaine let himself stand in the living-room doorway, looking over the man who Fathered him. Half his genetics coding was linked to the slob in front of him, yet even as he simmered in his own loathing, he couldn't let himself leave the house without knowing for sure the man's chest was still rising and falling in an even pattern. Blaine wasn't religious, but as he left the house he made sure he said a silent prayer that he would be in same unconscious state when his Mother returned from shopping.

The day went by in an easy blur of class, Kurt, and coffee. Sitting in Lima Bean with his boyfriend, Blaine has almost blocked out what would be waiting for him at home, until Kurt mentioned not wanting to spend another afternoon at his residence.

"We're always round mine… or hanging around Lima… don't you get bored?" Kurt sighed

"Hey!" Blaine smiled "I like your house! Your Dad's been super cool to and Finn & Carole are always nice! Plus... your bed's comfy."

Kurt blushed, but kept holding Blaine's gaze with his own. "Still… can't we go round yours?" Kurt lowered his voice slightly "Maybe I want to know if your bed's as comfy as mine."

Blaine laughed as Kurt winked, then broke our into a smile as well. "I can tell you now, it isn't! And anyway… you know it wouldn't be worth going round to my place… I live further away from here than you plus… My Dad…" Blaine struggled to find the words. He wanted to tell Kurt the truth so much it hurt - he trusted Kurt, he adored Kurt, he knew Kurt would never judge him; yet why did he stop himself talking about this? Why did he feel so… embarrassed? "…He just isn't the kind of person you'd want to be stuck having a conversation with." Blaine finished. It wasn't a lie… it just wasn't the truth either.

"You know… I can deal with homophobia… I would deal with it for you." Kurt said sincerely, making Blaine's heart melt.

"I couldn't put you through meeting my Dad, Kurt." _No one should…_ but Blaine would never be able to let himself say that last part out loud, even as his unspoken words echoed through his brain. Kurt's face fell a little, but a look of understanding crossed it - just as an idea crossed Blaine's mind. "You know.. you might able to meet my Mum though? I think she'd like that.

The boys smiled at each other warmly. "Y'know… I'd like that as well"

"Yeah… I would too… maybe next time we have double maths or something, we can skip it and go and meet her lunch. I just know she'll adore you as much as I do."

Suddenly, Blaine's phone went off. He took it out his pocket, and look down; reading the screen as a look of gloom came across his face.

"Shit… Kurt. I need to go, I'm really sorry." Blaine went to stand up, but Kurt grabbed his hand.

"You haven't got your car here." Kurt reminded him, and Blaine's stomach dropped as he realised Kurt was right. He was stranded. "Hey… it's okay, I'll just drop you home, 'kay?"

Blaine agreed, but Kurt could see he didn't want to. However, he didn't want to push it. The drive was almost silent, apart from Blaine giving directions. Kurt asked once why Blaine needed to be home, but after Blaine deflected the question quickly only giving away that it was his Mother who'd texted him, Kurt dropped it; figuring Blaine would text him later.

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><p>Blaine didn't text him later. The next day, Kurt didn't receive his normal 'Good Morning' message from his boyfriend either. Blaine wasn't at school, Blaine wasn't texting him, he didn't call Kurt after he got home. Nothing. Kurt instantly was worried he'd done something to upset Blaine, and even went as far as sending a text that said "<em>Is everything okay between us? Please tell me if I've done something. Xo<em>" - but got no reply to that either. Then the next day; the exact thing happen, as if Blaine has dropped off the face of the planet.

Kurt's mood moved from missing Blaine, to being worried he'd hurt Blaine, to being annoyed and angry at Blaine for not telling him if he'd hurt him, to just being plain worried about Blaine. It wasn't like him at all, to suddenly cut contact. He could have lost his phone, but why didn't he email? Maybe he was sick, but he still had a landline phone didn't he? By the end of the second day, Kurt has resorted to asking his fellow Warblers if anyone had had any contact with him; but the last person to see Blaine was himself, when he'd dropped Blaine home after coffee.

_Maybe he's gone straigt back out… and had a car crash? Oh god.. What if he had a car crash? Wait. No. Someone would have called you._

_Perhaps he'd just really really sick… so sick he forgot to call… No. He would have called._

_Or he's busy taking care of someone else who's sick! So busy he just… forgot me..._

_Maybe.. he's been spontaneously taken on holiday… No. This is getting ridiculous._

Kurt was on his way home from school when he made the split second decision to go to Blaine's house. He remembered the street from dropping Blaine off, and managed to then recognised the house thankfully. As he stood on Blaine's porch waiting for someone to answer the door, he wasn't sure what he was going to say - however, it didn't matter; since Kurt waited ten minutes, but no one came.

Courage. It sounded stupid since it was what Blaine had always reminded him about with silly texts after they'd first met… but right now Kurt needed just a little more courage. Standing on that doorstep he deiced he could face whatever was going on - he was strong enough. If Blaine was ignoring him, didn't want to see him, was angry with him, wanted to break up with him… it pained Kurt; but he knew he had to face it. He could have walked in to find parents he'd never met before, in tears over a lost son, a sick son, a dead son - the though stabbed through Kurt even as it crossed his mind - but he knew standing on this doorstep he wasn't going to find out. Standing on that porch, he wasn't showing he was strong enough. So he bravely tried opening the front door - only to find it unlocked.

No matter what Kurt had psyched himself up for… the view he got was enough to make him stop breathing. He felt the blood drain from him face, and sink from the best of his body to his feet. He feet, which could not move, having made themselves stuck to the floor with absolute shock. He stood, and stared at the frozen scene before him; not able to tear his eyes from where his boyfriend lay, without movement, at the bottom of the stairs only meters in front of him.

His legs legs were splayed across the stairs, as he lay diagonally with his head closest to Kurt's feet His beautiful olive skin was covered in purple and black marks, as if someone has taken a paintbrush and lashed it across his face. The bruises frayed at the edges, and covered swelling around his left cheekbone and nose, masking the damage. Kurt didn't move anything but his eyes, working their way over Blaine's broken body in the most frightening way. Blaine wrist was laying limply by his side, the angle of it seemed strange. There was a gash cut through his eyebrow, just above the swollen cheek, explaining the dried blood down the left side of his beautiful face. His lip was open, and still wet with blood, his nose also covered in the red liquid, sticky from it's exposure to oxygen.

Kurt knew he should move, but he just kept looking. He could see Blaine's shoulders through a tear in his shirt, as if someone has grabbed him by his collar with so much force it was enough to rip. Tears welled in Kurt's eyes as he realised that those shoulders - the ones that only days ago he'd fallen asleep against, and slung his arms around, and planted tender kisses on - were now smattered with small, open, angry-red sores. His stomach turned as he released they looked like burn marks from cigarette butts.

Kurt wasn't sure how long he could have stayed there, standing in horror at the picture in front of him. If it was not for him realising that Blaine's chest was moving, maybe all day. However, as he say the movement, something clicked in his mind. Blaine's chest rose and fell, but barely. It seemed pained, as if his body just merely instinctively sucking in small, shallow gasps of air. Kurt knew he needed to do something - and he needed to do something now.


	3. Chapter 3

**QuickNote;** Hello! Thank you so so much for the reviews and alerts! I can't help but feel like a tease sometimes with my style of writing; so really it's lucky I have the most amazing readers who put up with it!  
>Anyway, the comments keep me going and inspire me to (not sleep) and write, so they have very much valued! I hope you enjoy this next segment ^_^<br>**Disclaimer;** Don't own Glee. Don't own these characters. Alas, I own nothing.

_- Rosy, of the Living Tinted [:_

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><p>It had started with a text. He had been sitting, enjoying a normal afternoon at Lima Bean with his boyfriend - everything being the way it should be. Until he got that text. It had only contained seven words - but those seven words were enough to strike fear into his heart. A fear that only deepened when he had to depend on that wonderful boyfriend on his to drop him home.<p>

He had been driving home feeling as helpless as pathetic as his Father always told him he was. He knew in his heart, he should've told Kurt; should have told someone; should have made Kurt wait… but he knew Kurt was already worried, and told himself he could deal handle this. He wasn't dragging the boy he loved into this; his world already hurt enough people. He was going to deal with this by himself.

Blaine Anderson got out of Kurt's car, waves him goodbye, and silently entered the house. He heard raised voices instantly, and glanced down at his phone one more time to see the seven words that had brought him home in such a rush.

_"Please come home. I need your help."_

It was important to note that life hadn't always been this way; not for his Mother at least. He had seem videos and heard people recall old stories of a time where his Father was a lovely, loving man. A man who always wanted a family, who never even glanced at other women, who liked his job and like his life. This, however, was a man Blaine had never met. Despite everything that had ever happened, his Mother had always defended his Dad, always trying to explain that it wasn't always like this. But slowly, it changed. Piece by piece, new rules were set in place, new arguments were had, Marvin would start stopping by a local sports bar after work with a few colleagues a few times a week. Then a few more times a week. Then every day. Until he would come home, smelling of beer and woman's' perfume. He would take it out on his wife, slurring comments on how disappointing she was, how ugly she was, how she was lucky she had him. And when he would turn the send threatening glances through the ceiling to where their newborn son lay, scared and crying from the chaos he heard downstairs, she would throw herself into harms way. Into the fire. Onto the train tracks. As long as no harm came to her son.

He stepped into the living room, and it was if we was stepping into a scene from an old black and white drama. The yelling was so loud, he failed to register the words - all he could hear was noise. His Mother stood in the corner, as his Father yelled down at her. Her arms were raised, as if they could bloke his words, and Blaine could already see two new purple marks down each forearm - marks that he assumed had been from her being grabbed so hard that the capillaries under the skin had burst with the pressure.

The energy of the room changed, as Father noticed his presence and changed his focus from his wife to his son.

"How _nice_ of you to join us." He spat, then glared back at his wife. "You called him, did you? _And_ after I said not to? So you thought you'd disobey me? What were you? Were you _worried_? Frightened?" Her tears came quick and heavy as he mocked her, then held her face with one hand; with the contradicting gentleness as two new lovers would. He tilted up her chin, and brought their faces closer together, and whispered: "Good. I would be scared too."

Before Blaine could blink he pushed her away, only to take the hand that has been caressing her cheek and strike her with it. She fell instantly. As his Father turned around, laughing in delight at the show of his own strength, Blaine flew across the room. He helped his Mother up, holding her close to him.

"You need to get out of here now, okay?" She opened her mouth to argue with him, but no words came out. "You need to go, and get help."

She shook her head, but Blaine knew their time before his Father threw his attention back on them was limited. He was not about to leave her by herself, knowing by the time he got back with help anything could have happened. He helped her move across the room.

"Go. Now." He started to feel himself tear up, but quickly swallowed, knowing his Mother would never leave if she saw how scared his was.

She trembled as she grabbed his car keys hanging by the door, then staggered out of the house. Blaine kept watching, making sure she was out of the house, and safe, but as the front door closed a new feeling washed over him.

It was the feeling you get when things were _too_ quiet. The feeling you get when you watch horror movies, and you know something's about to jump out at you, or someone's about to be taken. That feeling when you see something on screen that the main character can't, and you need to physically stop yourself jumping up and screaming_ "Turn around!"_

Blaine stood, paralyzed for a moment by sheer terror. His pulse doubled, booming in his chest and then echoing around his cull. He knew not of what he was going to face when he did finally turn around… but even as he felt the dread weigh down his chest and drop to the pit of his stomach, he knew he would have to face it eventually. He moved his head slowly, glancing over his shoulder, to see his Father standing a metre or two behind him. Smirking.

And then, he did what he did best.  
>He ran.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**QuickNote;** Two updates in one day! This never happens right? You lucky bunnies ;D Anyway - I hope you enjoy this! And I will apologize now for my obsessive need for ending that don't conclude.. I'm really sorry. I don't think I can even stop myself anymore. Hope you enjoy however! ^_^ **Disclaimer; **I do not own Glee, nor do I own these character.

_- Rosy, of the Living Tinted [:_

It is important to recognise that people don't always do the logical thing when they are scared. The logical thing for Blaine to have done was to sprint out the front door, and down at the street, as fast as his legs would carry him. He should have ran until he had nothing left, however it wasn't until Blaine was at the top of the stairs that he realised this. He didn't have a chance to regret it though until he has been pushed down those same stairs.

Marvin Anderson had then proceeded to leave the house, but not after placing his boot onto Blaine's ribs as he lay unconscious, and throwing all his weight down, making sure he heard those ribs snap for good measure.

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><p>Kurt Hummel's mind raced at a thousand miles an hour. <em>Do I drive him to the hospital himself? Do I call for an ambulance? What if the paramedics took to long to arrive?<em> Then, another voice inside him told him to breath, to stop panicking, and think.

Whatever he did, he wasn't to move Blaine. He'd watched enough TV-drama's to know that. However, he couldn't stop himself slipping into silent hysterics as he dialed 911.

The phone took a moment to connect the phone call, but was picked up instantly.

_"Hello, you have called 911, which service do you require?"_

"I-I-I need an a-am-ambulance.." Kurt stuttered

_"What is your name?"_ ask the woman on the other end.

"K-Kurt."

_"Okay Kurt, I need to you breath for me, and remain calm. Are you hurt?"_

Kurt didn't his best to gulp in air, he needed to pull himself together for Blaine's sake. "No.. No I'm fine. It's my boyfriend, I don't know what's happened, I think he's been pushed down some stairs, he's unconscious-"

_"Sir, you need to remember to breath for me, okay? What is your location?"_

Kurt quickly rambled off Blaine's address; remembering back to the '13' on Blaine's letterbox. It was a miracle in itself that he'd even noticed that number - he only had because he'd been born on the 13th.

The woman on the end of the line told Kurt an ambulance had been dispatched, then stayed on the line to keep him calm until the paramedics had arrived. Throughout the whole time, he updated her on Blaine's unchanging condition, explaining when injuries he could see. There didn't seem to be massive blood loss, there was no crush injuries. The biggest risk was internal injuries, or any damage to the brain form the head wound, but she didn't mention this to Kurt.

As soon as the paramedics arrived, everything blurred. He was aware of what seemed like a hundred people all talking at him, asking him questions he didn't know the answers to. He wished he did know something about Blaine's family, his home life, but slow realisation began to click in about why he didn't. Blaine had never talked about where his Mother worked, and he tried to avoid the topic of his Father completely. Should Kurt have known something? Noticed something?

He didn't leave Blaine's side. He rid in the ambulance with him, holding his hand, and followed through as he was taken to admitted into a ward. He was told that at the moment Blaine was stable, but in need of tests, and then the questions started again.

_What relation are you to Mr. Anderson?_

_Do you have any idea how he sustained these injuries?_

_When did you find Mr. Anderson?_

_Do you know what health insurance he is under?_

_Do you know what blood type he is?_

_The police will want to talk to you later, is that okay?_

_Do you have any contact details for Mr. Anderson's parents?_

_Do you know where we could find his parents_?

But Kurt didn't know. He sat at Blaine's bedside, watching the boy he loved breath through machines. Snakes of wires surrounding, measuring how alive he was, converting it into numbers on monitors around Blaine's bed - numbers he didn't understand.

He heard doctor's talking about how Blaine has obviously been assaulted, how he was covered in marks, how there had been signs on his x-rays from previously broken bones, and as each questioning gaze landed to Kurt he felt more and more confused. He kept hearing these statement's about _Mr. Anderson_... and he hated it. He wanted to scream out that he had a name. His name was Blaine. He was _his_ Blaine. He was person, and he was hurt. Lying broken and battered, and for reason's Kurt didn't even understand.

An hour passed, with no change but the hands on the clock next to Blaine's bed. Kurt couldn't let his mind getting the better of him; no matter how much he knew Blaine would have argued with him if he's been awake.

_He should have asked Blaine more about his life. He should have insisted Blaine tell him more. He should have asked what that text was this afternoon. He should have waited for Blaine. He should have gone in after Blaine. He should have done something._

A young doctor came in, looking at the screens surrounding Blaine, taking down notes on a clipboard.

In silence, she quickly left, only to return moments later with an older doctor. They exchanged words that Kurt didn't understand in hushed tones.

_"He's hypotensive…discoloration of his fingernails… body temperature still hasn't risen to normal…"_

They seemed to reach a decision - younger doctor exited, and the older doctor came over the Kurt.

"We believe Blaine is going to need a CT." he explained to Kurt, "We were hoping Mr. Anderson would have regained consciousness by now or a parent would have been contacted… but since that is not the case I need to ask you - is there anyone _at all _who you can call? We believe there is a possibility Blaine might have suffered some internal injuries, however we won't know until we can run tests. But to do so we need the consent from next of kin or a legal guardian." His eyes softened, as he looked at Kurt, hearing the question Kurt was asking in his head. "Since you are both minors, we can't allow you to sign the forms and take responsibility."

Kurt nodded. "I'll… I just need to make a phone call."

The doctor understood, and left as Kurt took out his mobile.

"Dad?" Kurt felt his voice wavering, but he needed to push on.

"Hey kiddo! Look.. I know you get really busy, but I've told you - if you're going to stay late for a glee thing can you _please_ text me?"

"Dad… Dad it's not that. Dad I need you."

"Kurt…? Kurt what's wrong? Where are you?" Concern instantly flooded Burt Hummel's voice.

Kurt gave in, letting his tears flow once again. "Dad I'm at the hospital… It's Blaine.. I don't know what happened, I should have called sooner b-b-but…"

"Kurt it's okay. Carole, get Finn on the phone, Kurt, we're on our way."

"O-okay Dad.. we're in room-"

Kurt didn't get a change to finish his sentence. He was cut off by a piercing high-pitched alarm, alternating between semitones in a way that could have been used for torture

Kurt felt his heart stop in his chest as he released they were coming from the Blaine's monitors. He left himself be pushed backwards as nurses and doctors rushed into the room. Blaine's bed was pushed flat, then Kurt's view was totally blocked by white coats.

_"Someone call up to O.R. three! We have an emergency trauma case!"_

_"We need to get him stable before we move him!"_

_"We need more O negative down here!"_

_"We need more information on this chart!"_

Kurt slid down the wall, pulling his arms around his knees. His hands shook as raised them to cover his mouth. His eyes fills with tears - yet he was was petrified to let himself cry. He just sat on the floor, and let himself turn cold.

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><p><strong>ExtraNote;<strong> I just want to admit that I'm writing blind - I have no idea what happened when you call 911, I don't even live in America; for all I know a small imp could sing you a song… Also, I have no medical experience at all, so apart from some quick googling and watching Grey's Anatomy, I really have no knowledge on what I'm writing about.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Reviews adored and welcomed [:


	5. Chapter 5

**Quicknote;** First: my apologies. Second; This is the final installment, and I am sorry it took so long to get here. If anyone's still reading - I thank you with all my might. Third: Thank you for every single review and story alert - they really do mean the world.

**Disclaimer;** I don't own Glee. Which is a good thing really, or nothing would ever get done.

_- Rosy, of the Living Tinted._

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><p>Marvin Anderson sat in a small, windowless room. Time was irrelevant, it could be two in the morning or four in the afternoon, and he'd be none the wiser. The white walls, decorated with cracks, stared down at him - worsening his headache. He wondered for a moment how stable the room was. It was suffocating, as if the cracks in the plaster were warnings that the whole place was about to cave in, and trap him there forever.<p>

In front of him was a small desk, as pale as the rest of the room. It was home only to a tape recorder, as the pen and notepad that had been there when he was shown into the room now lived in the hands of a tired looking police officer, sitting opposite.

"I want to see my wife."

"I'm afraid we cannot allow that, Mr. Anderson."

"I have the right to see my own wife!"

"Your wife is currently in Lima A&E, recovering from a violent, malicious attack on her life. You will be held here until she is awake and alert enough to give us a full account of her attacker and the circumstances of her attack. As our prime suspect in this investigation you are not permitted to have any contact with the victim."

"I want to see my son then."

The police officer remained very quiet, wrote a few worlds on his notepad, then checked his watch.

"Did you not hea-!"

"Let the records show I am acknowledging Mr. Anderson's request to see his son, yet I cannot, at this present time, answer his request."

Marvin wasn't always the brightest in his class, but he was never the most stupid. A shadow of guilt entered his expression, which was all the police officer had been waiting for.

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><p>"Don't you ever do that to me again." Kurt cried, as the broken, battered body beside him slowly stirred.<p>

The world was still fuzzy. Things didn't seem to start or end; it was all just a disarray of colours. Whites turned into blues, blues turned into dark reds, dark reds into greens, and back into whites again. Machine's whirred, and beeped, steady and unchanging. And within it all sat a boy, holding Blaine's hand, crying into a cast on his forearm.

Words were not easy to form. The task of pushing air out of bruised lungs, and through strained vocal cords was not an easy one. His throat was dry, and still swollen; and _everything_ hurt.

"Is… Mum… okay?"

Blaine could hear the smile in Kurt's voice as he answered - never mind the fact Blaine had gone through hours of surgery to locate and stop his internal bleeding, or that his pressure dropped so low they were worried they'd be able to get him back. Nope, here he lay, concussed, with a fractured sternum, six broken ribs, a pulmonary contusion and more cuts and minor injuries that could be accounted for - and naturally he asks about anyone other than himself first.

"She's okay. She was found off the side of the road, a few blocks from here. She was on the phone to the police, and it seems she veered off the road after losing consciousness. She'd be hit in the head pretty badly. She's okay, she's in another ward. You're in the post-op ward but she didn't have to go into surgery."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. "Post-op?" Blaine asked, confused.

"You.. you were in a really bad way. You still are, okay? I'm gonna go and tell your doctor you're awake."

Kurt was almost out the room before Blaine spoke again. So softly, and pained. Kurt would have missed the question if he hadn't been waiting for it this whole time.

"What about… Dad?" he breathed

Kurt turned, leaning into the doorway. He stared down at his boyfriend. How could someone he knew was so strong, seem so fragile? In that moment the casts and bandages that held him together might as well have been glue and tape.

"They found him in a park near your house yesterday. He didn't know where he was. He was taken into custody."

Kurt looked at his shoes, he knew how hard this must be for Blaine.

"Thank you for.. everything."

It hurt when Kurt ran back and hugged him, but the good kind of the pain. The kind that lets you know you're still alive. Kurt lay awkwardly around Blaine, trying to find every point of contact he could. He figured the doctor would be in soon anyway, so there was no harm in letting this moment be theirs.

"You're okay now, Blaine, you're okay."


	6. Epilogue

**Disclaimer;** I don't own Glee, which is a good thing - trust me.

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><p>April 2011<br>Prisoner report #273  
>Marvin Anderson<br>On multiple charges of Battery, Aggravated Assault, and Threats to Kill.  
>Attempted Murder charge pending investigation.<br>Court date: n/a  
>Status: Deceased<p>

Prisoner #273, Marvin Anderson, had been taken into custody at 5:57pm 27/April/2011, with a blood alcohol level of 0.245.

He was questioned upon arrest, however was too aggravated and disorientated for the questioning to continue.

At 10:17am 28/April/2011 he was deemed compos mentis, and questioning resumed.

Upon his wife, Marie Anderson, waking up after sustaining traumatic injuries, her statement was collected at 10:34am 23/April/2011 from Lima General Hospital. Marvin Anderson was charged on multiple counts of battery, aggravated assault, and threats to kill, regarding the long-term domestic abuse of his wife and only son.

A charge of attempted murder was also under investigation, pending the official statement of his son, Blaine Anderson, who at the time was in surgery.

At 11:21am 28/April/2011 he pleaded guilty to all current charges laid against him.

At 12:13pm 28/April/201, on standard rounds, the accused was found dead in his cell. He appeared to have hanged himself with his belt. Upon arrest he was not deemed to be a threat to himself, however let the records show a psych evaluation never took place.

It is believed he took his own life after assuming his son was dead.

Let the records also show there had be no confirmation of his son's medical situation by any officer during questioning, due to Blaine Anderson's condition being too unpredictable.

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><p><strong>ExtraNote;<strong> I have no idea how the criminal system in the US works, so please excuse any mistakes. Reviews are adored - I hope you enjoyed the story.


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